


Paved with Good Intentions

by softintelligence



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3465215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/pseuds/softintelligence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's one thirty two a.m. and Danny is waiting for some code to compile when his phone buzzes, the messenger icon appearing on the lock screen. Next to the icon, the description reads: </p>
<p>laxchampion37: Coming back for senior prom hbu</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paved with Good Intentions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radlilim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radlilim/gifts).



It's one thirty two a.m. and Danny is waiting for some code to compile when his phone buzzes, the messenger icon appearing on the lock screen. Next to the icon, the description reads: 

laxchampion37: Coming back for senior prom hbu 

Danny sits up from his chair and stares at his phone. Jackson hasn't messaged him in months; Danny had thought Jackson had been busy with whatever he was doing in London. He glances at the time. It's early morning in London. Senior prom is in a month. Why is he messaging him now? 

He picks up his phone and taps the text field. His thumb hovers over the keyboard. He can talk to Jackson, or maybe he can ignore him, but by now Jackson has already knows that Danny has seen the message. Danny can just imagine what would happen if he ignored Jackson's messages. 

dMahealani: not sure if I'm going. 

The reply is almost instantaneous. Danny hasn't ever thought of Jackson as someone who's glued to his phone; Jackson is someone with his head up all the time, but maybe the time away from Beacon Hills has changed him. 

laxchampion37: Ur going w/me. 

Danny furrows his brow.

dMahealani: what   
laxchampion37: U can read danny   
dMahealani: yeah but why am I going with you?   
laxchampion37: Do u have someone else in mind? Dump them

He _doesn't_ have anyone else in mind, but it doesn't stop him from being mildly annoyed. He's not surprised that the first contact he's had with Jackson in _months_ is Jackson demanding that he go with him to senior prom where he doesn't even go to school, but Jackson could still ask him how he's doing. 

dMahealani: are you going to just ditch school to come back to BH for senior prom  
laxchampion37: It's boring here   
laxchampion37: Plus you're in BH so that's where I'm going 

Huh. 

dMahealani: so you're not coming back for lydia

Up until now, the replies have come back quickly; the indicator that Jackson is typing had popped up almost immediately after Danny sent his response. But now, there's nothing, and Danny knows he's hit a nerve. Of course. Jackson had been invested in his relationship with Lydia. Had liked-- _loved_ Lydia. While Jackson had always hovered around 4 for murderous rage, around Lydia that scale had tipped down to about a 1.

Finally, Jackson's reply comes: 

laxchampion37: No I'm not coming for Lydia she isn't interested in me anymore. Go w/me to prom

Well--that's weird. Danny doesn't 

dMahealani: so i'm just a back up huh? i told you, you're not my type  
laxchampion37: Idiot  
laxchampion37: I'm everybody's type  
laxchampion37: See u in a few weeks

Danny tries sending Jackson a few more messages, but he doesn't reply to them, even though the app's indicator tells him that Jackson has seen the messages. Danny figures Jackson has made up his mind about the issue. 

It's been so long since Danny has had to deal with Jackson's immovable decisions that he feels worn out just from the text conversation. Jackson is definitely not telling him the full story, but Danny doesn't know how to tease it out of Jackson. Not without asking him directly, and Danny isn't sure he wants to hear exactly what Jackson might say. 

What if it's some kind of revenge scheme against Lydia? Danny wouldn't say that Jackson is a bad guy, by any means. They've been friends for years and years, since childhood, when Jackson accidentally broke the software on his phone and Danny helped him fix it. 

His code finishes compiling. Danny rubs his eyes and checks the clock. His back is starting to hurt already. 

Danny goes to bed, his shoulders and back sore from being upright for so long. He looks at his conversation with Jackson, and then forces the application to load previous messages from him, from before Jackson's spontaneous contact.

They're conversations about boring, normal things. Jackson mentioning he's seeing someone, but "nothing serious." He mentions how boring and slow school is, but he doesn't say anything about missing Beacon Hills, or Lydia, or his parents. He asks Danny about the engineering club, if there's anyone hot on the lacrosse team now, about Danny's relatives in Hawaii. When he had had that conversation with Jackson, he'd been surprised that Jackson had even remembered he'd had relatives in Hawaii. He's surprised again, reading it--Jackson asked him if he's been practicing Hawaiian with his grandparents.

Danny sighs and runs a hand down his face. He sends Jackson a final message: 

dMahealani: call me when you have time   
And then he goes to bed, his code compiled. He's going to be exhausted tomorrow. 

\--- 

Jackson calls Danny as he's making his way to his car. 

"Hello?" Danny asks, still sleepy. He unlocks his car and connects his phone to his car's Bluetooth receiver, and Jackson's voice blares out through the speakers. 

"You wanted me to call," Jackson says, half accusatory. 

"It was a greeting, Jackson," Danny says.

"Yeah, whatever." In the background, Danny can hear cars passing by. "You got out of class, I'm calling, hurry up and tell me what you want." Well, that much about Jackson hasn't changed: he's still as much of an asshole as before. 

"It's about the prom thing." Danny pulls out of the school parking lot.

"What about it," Jackson says, an edge to his voice, like he's ready to fight Danny. Danny doesn't particularly want to _fight_ , but he wants Jackson to be honest with him. "You're going with me, end of story." 

"Dude, why?"

"Because I said so. Look, I told you. Dump the guy you've got in mind. I'm better anyway. I'll get you a new Armani suit."

Danny shakes his head, but he can't help but smile a little. "I don't have anyone else in mind," he says. "I wasn't planning to go." 

"Well, you're going now." 

Danny drums his fingers on the steering wheel. He could say 'yes,' but he needs to know more. "Why are you coming back?"

Jackson falls silent, except for the sound of his breathing, steady but deep. Danny wonders what emotions Jackson must be going through that he won't respond immediately. Jackson doesn't normally _hesitate_.

"It's boring as hell here," Jackson says, finally, which he's already said before. "And I figured I would come back to Beacon Hills and see the surprised look on the faces of all those assholes."

Huh. It sounds good superficially, but a lot of this doesn't add up. "So . . . you're going to come to the senior prom and take _me_ to the dance, instead of some hot English girl?"

That silence again. "Yeah," Jackson says, and then, slowly, awkwardly, "You were always the best part of that goddamn town, anyway." 

Danny doesn't laugh. Jackson's actually not trying to be funny, or cheesy. He's being honest, and that's . . . well, it's new. 

Danny thinks about the pros and cons of going to prom with Jackson. Anyone who might be interested before would definitely not be interested after. Jackson's attitude, his threatening presence, would drive everyone off, but it's senior year. Besides, Danny's heading off to Stanford, and everyone else is staying in Beacon Hills. 

"What are you going to do next year?" Danny asks. 

"My old man wants me to go to Stanford," Jackson says. "Legacy admit."

"Oh," Danny says. "Okay."

"Yeah."

Danny doesn't say anything for a while. He imagines the possibility of going to the same college as Jackson, as maybe being roommates with him. Jackson's been a good friend. Sort of. In the only way Jackson knows _how_ to be a friend: by being a giant asshole. 

"I'll get you that giant box you want," Jackson says, interrupting his thoughts. 

Danny smiles. "It's called a 3D printer. And you don't have to bribe me. Besides, I wouldn't know what to print with it." 

"So."

"Yeah, sure," Danny says. He pulls into the driveway of his house. "I'll go to prom with you, Jackson." 

"Of course," Jackson says, smug and self-satisfied, like he hadn't just admitted that Danny was the best thing about Beacon Hills besides his relationship with Lydia. "I booked my flight already. I'll pick you up at six. Don't be late." 

"Yeah, yeah, wouldn't miss it, Jackson," Danny says. "I'm home now, so I'm gonna go."

"Yeah, see you soon. Send me your measurements so I can get you that new Armani." 

\---

Jackson sends him a couple messages here and there; just about how boring his classes are, and if Danny is interested in anyone. Danny doesn't know what's making Jackson more talkative, but whatever it is, he's not complaining. 

People do ask Danny out to the dance--girls and guys alike, but Danny just says, "Sorry, I've already got a date." Even Stiles asks him about it. 

"Who's this new date you've got?" Stiles asks him during chem. "Come on. Is it the new guy on the lacrosse team? You know he's like, a freshman, right?"

"Shut up, Stiles," Danny says. 

He buys two tickets to prom, the price of which Jackson reimburses him, even when Danny tells him he doesn't have to. The Armani suit comes in the mail, every stitch in place, with Danny's name stitched in the back as though someone else is going to steal his measurements. 

The day before senior prom, Jackson sends him a photo of the airport, and a message of 'Gonna see you soon.' 

The night of senior prom, Danny feels his heart going a hundred miles an hour, his hands breaking into a sweat. He hasn't felt this way since the last time he dated, even though this isn't a date. He paces his room for half an hour, adjusting the suit, until finally his mom comes up the stairs and looks through the doorway at him.

"Danny," she says, "What are you doing? You're going to wear the floors out!" 

"Sorry," he says. "Jackson's coming to pick me up. Do you remember him?"

"Of course." His mom nods. "He's not a nice boy. But he is to you."

Danny laughs. Well, he wouldn't call Jackson _nice_. "He just lives on his own terms, Mom." He walks down the stairs with her, her arm looped through his. "I'll be back tomorrow probably."

"Are you drinking?" his mom asks, narrowing her eyes. 

"No, of course not." He's sure Jackson will drink, and then Danny will have to take care of him while he throws up in the bushes or even worse--all over the Hugo Boss suits he's constantly wearing. "I just want to make sure my friends are okay."

The doorbell rings. He bends down so his mom can kiss him. 

"Don't be nervous," His mom says. "He's not as handsome as my boy." 

Danny opens the door. Jackson is standing there, turned away slightly. His jaw is as well-defined as ever, hair perfectly in place. His Porsche is parked in front. He turns and flashes his million dollar smile. 

"Danny," Jackson says. "The suit looks good. Good."

"You look . . . good," Danny says, slowly, because he does.

"Of course I look good." Jackson grins. "And now we _both_ look good." 

Danny rolls his eyes. "Let's just go," he says. 

But when they buckle themselves into the car, Jackson doesn't leave right away, even though the car's engine is running. Jackson's jaw tightens a little, his eyes staring forward, and Danny looks at him, studying the silhouette of his face. Is he angry? Upset? Nervous?

"Your heart beat," Jackson says. "It's just loud." 

Is that the closest Jackson can come to admitting to Danny's face that he's a werewolf? Danny almost wants to laugh. "I can't do anything about that," Danny says. "Jackson, are you okay?"

Jackson's hands are shaking when he puts them on the steering wheel. His throat moves, as though he's speaking, but he's not saying anything. 

"We don't have to go to the prom." 

"We should," Jackson says. "I bought the tickets."

"Jackson," Danny says. "Why did you want to go to prom so bad, anyway?"

Jackson shrugs one shoulder. 

"You told me to dump whoever I had in mind." 

This time, Jackson shrugs both shoulders. He pulls the car out of park and starts driving to the prom venue. 

"Jackson," Danny says, adding a warning tone to his voice.

"Let's just have fun," Jackson says. 

The venue is large, extravagant: a beautiful hotel with a fully stocked and staffed buffet. Jackson parks in the provided lot, and just as Danny reaches to open the door, Jackson says, "Stop." 

"What?" Danny asks, but Jackson is already leaving the car, going around and opening the door for him. 

Jackson holds out his hand to Danny, but he won't look directly at his face. 

"Jackson," Danny says. 

"Come on." 

Danny takes Jackson's hand. The palm of his hand is warm--probably an effect of the werewolf thing, too. Jackson yanks Danny to his feet, and Danny ends up chest-to-chest with Jackson. "Whoa," Danny says.

Jackson's jaw moves a little, his brow furrowed. 

"Jackson?"

Jackson steps away, turning his head. "Am I still not your type?"

Danny furrows his brow. "Are you having an existential crisis? You know, Stiles had one like this, too. He kept asking me if I thought he was attractive."

"Don't compare to me that idiot," Jackson says. "I'm just asking. Am I still not your type."

"Jackson . . ."

"Answer the question, Danny." 

Danny crosses his arms over his chest. "You're my friend. We're friends, Jackson."

"Yeah," Jackson says. 

"You're attractive," Danny says, because it's not untrue. But he doesn't want to tell Jackson that he's his type, not if this is some sort of ego trip. Besides, Danny doesn't know if he can imagine seeing himself dating Jackson. Kissing him. Having sex with him. Jackson looks only at himself, cares only about himself, and besides, he's a werewolf, too.

"You're thinking about me," Jackson says. "I can smell it on you." 

"That's cheating."

Jackson's looking directly at him now, but instead of the smug, self-satisfied grin that Danny had been expecting, Jackson's face is strangely soft, the corners of his lips turned down into something--not sad. Stressed.

"London is shit," Jackson says. "Even after the therapy and all that bullshit, it's still shit. And this town is shit, too. Except you."

"And Lydia," Danny adds.

"It's over between us," Jackson says. "There's only you now." 

"So," Danny says. "You're gay? Is this why you kept fighting with Scott?"

Jackson's expression shifts to one of fake anger, and he jabs Danny in the shoulder a little. "Shut up," he says. More seriously, he says, "I don't know. Who cares. You're my date."

"Jackson, normal people usually ask other people out on a date _before_ asking them to prom." 

"I'm not normal." Jackson brushes some imaginary dirt off his suit, and then he holds out his arm to Danny. "Come on."

Danny hesitates. He turns it over in his head. Is this really a good idea? Jackson is still a werewolf. Still mad as hell, if his moods are anything to go by. 

His hesitation must be too long for Jackson, because Jackson looks at him, says, "Hurry up, Danny. I don't have all day. I need to show Stilinkski that I have a hot date, and he doesn't."

"I think Scott is his hot date," Danny says. He thinks about looping his arm through Jackson's, but then he takes Jackson's warm hand instead. 

Jackson snorts. "Of course he is." He looks down between the two of them, at Danny's hand enclosed around his, and then he squeezes Danny's hand. 

"Are you nervous about seeing everyone again?" Danny asks.

"No," Jackson says.

Danny shakes his head. "Liar."

"Who's the werewolf here--you or me?"

Danny just laughs.

\---

At the prom, Stiles reacts in the most overblown way as possible, as expected. Scott has to calm him down. Lydia is civil at first, but as the night wears on, she even smiles at Jackson. Danny thinks that maybe Jackson isn't as over Lydia as he'd said, but when Danny returns from the bathroom he overhears Jackson say, "Yeah, I gotta go get Danny," and Danny feels his heart swell a little. 

It's pretty boring, all things considered. People are surprised to see Jackson, but he's no longer eligible for prom king, since he's not a student, so no one really cares. Jackson isn't even taking up that much space on the dance floor; he sticks by Danny and shows him some pictures of the "boring ass crappy countryside" on his phone. 

They dance a little. Jackson puts his hand on Danny's waist at one point, just a light touch. Danny's heart races, and Jackson leans in and mouths, "Still not your type?" directly against Danny's ear. 

"Don't make me lie, Jackson," Danny says. 

At the end of the night, walking back to Jackson's car, Danny asks, "So how long are you staying?"

"Not that long," Jackson says. Danny can't help but feel a little disappointed. "But I'll be back in California after the semester ends." 

Jackson opens the car door for Danny. "We should go out," Jackson says. "Not with these five-year-olds. A real going out."

"Yeah."

In front of his house, Danny doesn't get out of the car right away. "You could come in," he says. "My parents are probably asleep. And they sleep on the first floor."

Jackson looks like he might say, 'no.' 

"We don't have to do anything," Danny says. "Besides, I got an email earlier, and I have to fix some code in my program. You don't have to sleep at home."

"It's not that bad at home," Jackson says, staring straight ahead. 

Danny doesn't say anything. A full minute later, Jackson wordlessly turns the engine to his car off, goes around the side, and opens Danny's car door. 

His parents are already asleep, so he doesn't have to explain Jackson's presence to them. His room is pretty clean, too. Danny reaches for his laptop, but Jackson grabs his wrist.

"Can the nerd stuff wait?" Jackson asks.

Danny looks between Jackson and the bed. Can it wait? he asks himself. Maybe. Probably. 

"I don't know," Danny says.

Jackson pulls him closer, anyway, and presses his lips to Danny's. It isn't what Danny imagines kissing Jackson would have been like. It's not hard, or angry, or confident, but it's slow, hesitant. 

Danny pulls away. "You know, I'm going to Stanford too."

Jackson is in a daze. "Oh," he says, and then his eyes clear a little. "Oh, good. I was going to make them send you an offer." 

"You can't do that, Jackson," Danny says, but honestly, he is a little bit charmed. 

"So," Jackson says, "can the code wait?"

"Yeah," Danny says, finally, "the code can wait."


End file.
